


Little Black Rain Cloud

by indigomini



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Enemies to Lovers, M/M, Misunderstandings, dumb boys, it's crack, this escalates quickly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-06
Updated: 2020-07-06
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:54:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25101994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/indigomini/pseuds/indigomini
Summary: I'm just a little black rain cloudHovering under the honey treeI'm only a little black rain cloudPay all the attention to little meOh, everyone knows that a rain cloudReally loves honey, yes, maybe just a nip
Relationships: Do Kyungsoo | D.O/Kim Jongin | Kai
Comments: 26
Kudos: 209
Collections: The GraduaXion





	Little Black Rain Cloud

**Author's Note:**

> It's bad, I'm sorry. It's all I got. <3
> 
> P.S. The working title for this was "waddup im kyungsoo im 19 and i never fuccin learned how to read" let's find out why.

Something catches his attention, and Kyungsoo turns in that direction to seek it out. Honey brown hair over a fresh undercut. The person is unknowingly walking toward him, and as he nears, Kyungsoo leans closer with a brilliant smirk: “ _Hey_ , Nini-poo. Nice hair.”

Jongin doesn’t bother stopping, of course, but he does stutter in his step once he sees who greeted him. His wide-eyed gaze quickly returns to the ground before him as he picks up the pace. “Morning, Kyungsoo,” he grumbles as he disappears through the door.

Kyungsoo smirks again, and twists his body around to see if he can still catch sight of that honey brown mop. Barely, but if he squints, he can see Jongin making his way to the stairs and queueing up behind the ascending masses. It’s a pretty color. Easier to spot compared to the usual jet black. How fun. How positively _rebellious_ for such a snobby little goodie-two-shoes.

They’re not enemies or rivals or anything dramatic. No, Kyungsoo just got so shitfaced at a graduation party from last semester that he kissed a dude. Which, whatever, his friends gleefully showed him the video the next day, and first of all: he looked pro as hell. It was like a scene from a movie—no, like the scene from a three season slowburn where they _finally_ acknowledge their feelings and make out. It was beautiful. Drunk Kyungsoo kisses like he’s a starved, face-sucking alien. Second, as far as random dudes to make out with, the guy was hot as fuck. He looked like a model, tall and broad and tan and he’d whimper whenever Kyungsoo bit his lip. And really, as far as dumb shit he’s done while drunk, this was not that bad whatsoever.

Except while his friends were recounting the event, on the other side of the cafeteria, someone let out a shrill, “I kissed _WHO!_ ” The whole building fell silent, all eyes turned, Kyungsoo’s included. And then the person who shrieked seemed to finally notice the deafening silence and swept their eyes over the room before landing, in horror, on Kyungsoo's face. Only for a moment, and then his face crumpled in disgust and he stormed off in the opposite direction, tall and broad and tan. Yep.

Well. Fuck him then. Kyungsoo is, if one believes the gossip, fine as fuck. Nothing to be embarrassed about. That’s his own loss if the guy wants to be all upset from a stupid, drunken kiss. They could’ve laughed over this and become Bros With A Backstory.

But they didn’t. This little factoid bothers Kyungsoo each time they run into each other, and right on cue it’s bothering him now. Significantly. He slides off the bench and swivels on his heel, out the door before the thought can even fully coalesce. Honey brown, honey brown… _there_ he is. Kyungsoo wheezes as he reaches the midway point up the stairs—fuck, he should have remembered to breathe, but the honey brown has just vanished from view, and that’s enough motivation for Kyungsoo to race the rest of the way up the incline.

“ _Hey, Nini-poo_ —!” he manages to choke out before doubling over, hands on his knees, black spots creeping into his vision. Too much late night cramming lately, and not enough cardio. He’s gonna faint. What the fuck was he thinking.

A dirty pair of Converses come into his narrowing field of vision. “A-are you okay?” asks a hesitant voice.

Against his better judgment, Kyungsoo straightens up to standing. His lungs burn, and dizziness keeps him swaying enough that he automatically reaches for the figure, stabilizing himself with a hand on their shoulder. He looks up to see a very startled Jongin before him, mouth hanging open as he stares blankly at Kyungsoo’s hand.

“Tut-tut, it looks like rain,” Kyungsoo mumbles.

“...Are you okay?” Jongin repeats, eyes returning upward to meet his, a hand hovering awkwardly in the space between them, as if he was bracing to catch Kyungsoo in case he… what, swooned?

Hah. As if he’d swoon over Kim Jongin.

“What’s with the hair?” It was intended to sound standoffish, but Kyungsoo was still wheezing, so it came out more like someone dying of thirst asking for water.

Jongin takes a half-step back, slipping Kyungsoo’s hand off his shoulder as his mouth twists into that familiar, disapproving scowl that makes his nose scrunch up. “My cousin was trying to dye it blond, but it was taking too long, so we washed it out midway,” he says to the ground, shuffling another half-step before swallowing and looking up. “I thought it’d be neat for graduation... You don’t actually care, do you.” His eyes narrow with suspicion.

“Oh. I care lots,” Kyungsoo deadpans, throwing in a bright smile for emphasis. “You look like an anime boy come to life.”

Jongin rolls his eyes and crosses his arms, shifting back onto the heels of his feet, toes lifting up. “Can you get whatever dumb comment you came up with out already. I have to get to class.”

Kyungsoo juts his lower lip out. “So hostile, Nini-poo. I was just giving you a compliment.”

“‘Kay, thanks then.” With his arms still crossed, Jongin turns and strides away quickly. Unfortunately, Kyungsoo’s caught enough breath and easily catches up, mimicking his stance as he walks alongside him.

“You going to the dance—” he starts.

“—No,” Jongin answers immediately.

“Why not?”

“I don’t care to dance.”

Kyungsoo laughs, now occasionally stepping a foot out in front of Jongin’s path so he has to skitter to the left. They’re practically dancing now, in a way. “Funny, I remember a whole lotta dancing from you—”

“Before I kissed you. Yeah. I got it. Ha-ha. It’s hilarious. _Never_ gets old.”

Jongin is stubbornly refusing to make eye contact again, despite their footwork duet. It’s always interesting to hear Jongin’s version of the story, though. Kyungsoo honestly doesn’t remember any of it. Just the video and his friends’ recollections. As far as he’s concerned, he totally could’ve been the one to initiate it, and yet Jongin always phrases it as if they both knew it was him who kissed Kyungsoo.

“If you can’t get a date, I’ll take you,” Kyungsoo winks. “First base last time, next time, who knows?”

“I don’t understand sports references,” Jongin grumbles, before stumbling as Kyungsoo manages to pin down one of his loosened shoelaces. “ _Stop_ ,” he whines, kicking Kyungsoo’s foot away as he persists. “Can you go make fun of someone else, I’m just trying to get to my fucking class.”

“ _Language_ , Nini-poo,” Kyungsoo scolds, and _ah, yes, there it is_ : Jongin _finally_ turns and glares at him with those pretty brown eyes. Only the glare wavers, and suddenly, his eyes are shining, reddening and brimming with tears. He sniffles, and it makes a gross, wet, sniffly sound, and the first thought that comes to Kyungsoo’s mind is a clever, meta quip, but before he even gets a chance, a tear spills over Jongin’s lashes, caught immediately by a brusque palm, and Jongin disappears, knocking against Kyungsoo’s shoulder as he dashes away. 

What… Kim Jongin has only ever been annoyed and unamused by his relentless teasing. It’s kind of their thing, since they’re not _really_ friends, and are just awkward-backstoried acquaintances. Kyungsoo stands there for another minute before he recovers, looking around at the other students, wondering what just happened. What did he even say? It was just… dumb shit, meant to rile Jongin up. He wasn’t even being mean.

Maybe Jongin was just having a bad day.

—

Kyungsoo chokes, but doesn’t stop splashing more water on his face, rubbing at his chin aggressively. “Why the fuck would you just let me use the same shaver that you use for your fucking balls?”

Baekhyun leans against the wall, gleefully watching him suffer. “It’s clean,” he says, turning his nose up. “I wash it after every use.”

“Yeah, but it’s got, like, your balls’ soul in it still, you disgusting fuck,” Kyungsoo growls, wiping the water away with a towel.

“Probably shouldn’t use that towel then, Mister I-Care-So-Much-About-Hygiene,” Baekhyun smirks.

Kyungsoo bundles the shaver into the towel and tosses it into Baekhyun’s hands, backing out of the bathroom before he finds more ball-contaminated things. He gives Baekhyun a glare and a vague, warning wave before he walks out the door and down the hall.

Kim Jongin lives on the other end of this floor. A fact that Kyungsoo has delighted in for the past few months, and part of why hanging out with Baekhyun has gotten so much more bearable. Normally, they’d cross paths again around the cafeteria in the afternoon if Kyungsoo is quick enough, but Jongin was nowhere to be found earlier. He’d been waiting all day for Jongin to get back to his room.

Three knocks. Some footsteps inside, and the door swings open.

“Nini-poo—”

The door slams shut immediately. Well, that was rude.

“How do you know where my room is?” Jongin asks, voice muffled through the wood.

True, this is Kyungsoo’s first time knocking on his door, but he’s run into Jongin plenty of times on this floor. Baekhyun’s room is by the elevator, and the pervert likes to keep his door open, and Kyungsoo likes to yell out at passers-by when they’re Kim Jongin. Why _wouldn’t_ he know where Jongin’s room is, would be the better question.

“I knocked on all the doors until I got to this one,” Kyungsoo deadpans.

After a pause, something shifts against the door, and Jongin asks, “...Really?”

Kyungsoo’s eyes involuntarily shoot to the ceiling and he rests his forehead against the door. Out of all of his bullshit for Kim Jongin to believe. He _did_ go knocking door to door, but that was _months_ ago.

"I'll tell you if you open the door."

Lo and behold, the door actually opens, and Jongin stands on the other side, hair and clothes disheveled, cheeks flushed a rosy pink, a bright green towel clutched tightly in his fist, eyeing Kyungsoo warily.

“...What’s with you?” Kyungsoo blurts out.

Jongin narrows his eyes into a glare and inhales deeply before exhaling in a big whoosh out of his mouth, his gaze reluctantly softening afterward. “I was about to shower, I had to put my clothes back on…”

One of Kyungsoo’s oldest friends, Kim Minseok, is a full on gym rat. He basically lives there, and permanently smells like he bathes in air freshener. Shortly after the party shenanigans, while Kyungsoo was still loudly irritated about Jongin throwing a hissy fit over a stupid drunken kiss, Minseok had mentioned that he sees Jongin there all the time. And that he works out very regularly. And that his abs actually manage to look better than Minseok’s, which isn’t something that Minseok admits with any sort of frequency. It’s been a while since his hyung said this, but Kyungsoo has a really good memory sometimes.

“Hello?”

The gray cotton on Jongin’s shirt is thin enough that if he squints, Kyungsoo can make out faint shapes, but the shirt is way too big, and Jongin hunches. If he had waited another thirty seconds, he could’ve run into half-naked Jongin in the bathroom in a picture-perfect, serendipitous moment. Damn Byun Baekhyun and his cursed ball shaver.

“I don’t get whatever you’re trying to do right now.”

Kyungsoo blinks. “What?”

Jongin scrunches up his mouth into a dainty little scowl. “You came all the way to my room to space out and ignore me. That’s not even funny.”

Jongin’s shirt stays opaque, so Kyungsoo looks up at him again. “Yeah. I…” He swallows, licking over his lips as he tries to recall the clever quip he prepared on his way here.

Oh… right. The reason he’d been waiting all day to come here in the first place.

“I was just… y’know, checking on you,” Kyungsoo says, taking a step into the room to avoid getting the door slammed in his face. He taps the toe of his boot against the floor. “You just ran off earlier…”

“As opposed to what?” Jongin says, crossing his arms over his chest.

Kyungsoo shrugs, changing to tapping with his other foot. “Usually, you give it right back.”

Jongin gives him a look, and says in a flat voice, “Usually.”

“ _Sometimes_ ,” Kyungsoo amends, shrugging again.

Jongin’s lip curls up into a small sneer.

“Every now and then,” Kyungsoo corrects, throwing his hands up in defeat and looking around the room for distractions. “It’s kind of like gambling. Sometimes, you win, but it’s rare. You know?”

Jongin stares blankly at him.

Feeling restless, Kyungsoo sidesteps him and enthusiastically studies the few decorations on the walls. “I like your room.”

“Why.”

He glances back at Jongin, who keeps following Kyungsoo with his eyes full of suspicion. “I dunno, it’s nice?”

“Is there a punchline coming?” Jongin asks.

“You make me sound so mean, Nini-poo,” Kyungsoo says sulkily.

“You literally say ‘poo’ after that nickname.”

“It’s a nickname,” Kyungsoo argues. “It doesn’t mean poop. It’s like, you know, Winnie the Pooh. With—” He gestures up at Jongin’s hair with a flourish of his hand, “—the honey brown hair. It’s funny.”

“Not when you’re the one being made fun of.”

“I don’t make fun of you,” Kyungsoo says, avoiding meeting his eyes as he studies Jongin’s bedsheets. Silence follows. He can feel Jongin’s gaze, and he squirms. “I just think you should lighten up. You… _overreact_ sometimes.”

“How?”

“Like this morning, we were just talking, and you got mad,” Kyungsoo mumbles. “Or… like the party, like who fucking cares? It was just a kiss. No need to get all embarrassed.”

“If it wasn’t anything to be embarrassed about, why do you have to keep bringing it up?”

Kyungsoo turns around, carefully meeting Jongin’s gaze. It’s different this time. He looks expectant, eagerly awaiting instead of the annoyed expression that he usually reserves for Kyungsoo. “It’s, uh, conditioning. You got all upset over accidentally kissing another dude at a party, but it’s not a big deal. I’ve just been trying to help you see that.”

Jongin stares unblinkingly for a good thirty seconds before leaning in closer, eyes narrowing. “...What?”

The shift makes Jongin’s face look so much more intense now. Kyungsoo swallows, eyes flickering to Jongin’s mouth briefly. An idea pops into his head, “It’s just part of like… the college experience. Like, experimentation or whatever. It was just a kiss. It doesn’t mean anything.” He shrugs, clasping his fingers behind his nape and casually resuming studying wall posters. “I mean, hell, I could kiss you right now if it’d help you get over it.”

After a long time, Kyungsoo gives up and looks back to find Jongin wearing a completely different expression. He raises an eyebrow as a quiet question.

Finally, Jongin speaks, drawing each word out, “...And that’d be no big deal for you?”

“I mean, we’re not _drunk_ right now, obviously, but I’m- I’m not chickenshit.”

A spark ignites behind Jongin’s eyes. His chin lifts minutely. “So do it then,” he says.

A formal challenge.

Nope. Kyungsoo does not feel panic, and he’s not going to be intimidated either. He’s up for challenges. He can feel his heartbeat trying to speed up, but he’s faster, stepping the distance between them until he’s right before Jongin. Instinctively, he licks his lips as his gaze lowers back to Jongin’s mouth. Kyungsoo swallows, feeling just the tiniest sliver of panic creeping in as he calculates trajectories. He’ll have to stand up on tiptoes, or Kim Jongin can come down to him. Kyungsoo decides on the latter, hand cupping the back of Jongin’s neck, and pulling him in.

He half-expects to not even make contact, yet soft, full lips collide with his, and Kyungsoo sinks into some primitive area of his brain where all that matters is whether or not he can get Jongin to make that whimpering sound from the video. He parts his lips, feeling Jongin do the same and then hiss loudly as Kyungsoo’s teeth find purchase. The hiss is followed by a short gasp and then, quietly, a weak moan, barely audible.

That’s not good enough. That’s not quite the right note that Kyungsoo can too-readily hear in his memory. He pulls Jongin closer, somehow, and feels arms around his back, Jongin’s firm body lined up against his. Sucking Jongin’s lip into place between his teeth, Kyungsoo bites again, getting a louder gasp for his troubles, and a warning squeeze around his waist.

Jongin pulls away, and Kyungsoo flails trying to pull him back before finally opening his eyes to see what happened.

Jongin is breathing heavily and carefully studying Kyungsoo’s face. “So that was no big deal?” he asks, sounding out of breath.

Jongin’s bottom lip is swollen fat and glistening. Kyungsoo can see his teeth marks on them. There’s room for more. Plenty of room. “No big deal,” he whooshes out absently, gasping for air.

Jongin shifts, and a surprised sound escapes Kyungsoo’s throat. He looks down, seeing Jongin’s thighs on either side of Kyungsoo’s right leg. They had made their way to the edge of Jongin’s bed somehow. His hands… his hands are cupping Jongin’s butt. Impulsively, he squeezes.

It feels amazing.

It also causes movement, and Kyungsoo stares down at the cotton tent between Jongin’s legs as it twitches again. Oh, that’s a _boner_ in there. From Kyungsoo kissing him.

“You’re hard,” Kyungsoo whispers, awe in his voice.

Jongin’s leg shifts again, and Kyungsoo looks at him wide-eyed as he realizes that Jongin is deliberately rubbing his knee right up against Kyungsoo’s groin, just enough pressure to make his erection ache for more contact. He doesn’t say anything else though, just studies Kyungsoo with his swollen lips and perky nipples and—

“You over your fear of kissing guys then?” Kyungsoo blurts out.

Jongin looks him over with a puzzled expression for some time before nodding slowly. “Yep. You’ve cured me,” he says, shifting his weight more heavily onto Kyungsoo’s leg.

“Well, that was easy. You should’ve just had me kiss you months ago.”

“...You’re right, I should’ve.”

He’s still gripping Jongin’s butt in both hands, but Kyungsoo sees no indication that he should release, and so he doesn’t.

“Didn’t know that was an option that I could’ve requested,” Jongin mutters quietly.

Kyungsoo gives him a look of disbelief. “I think I’ve offered literally at least once a day since the party happened,” he says, indignance rising.

“Oh my god,” Jongin rushes out, eyes going wide as if he was finally realizing it for the very first time.

“In many different and creative ways, mind you,” Kyungsoo adds.

“Oh god, you’re just really bad at this!” Jongin whispers.

“What?”

“I thought you were being mean, but no,” Jongin continues, eyes widening even more, “you’re just really fucking weird.”

Kyungsoo frowns, “Well, that’s kind of hurtful.”

Jongin folds over him, lips against his once again, and any further words vanish from Kyungsoo’s mind. His grip loosens, sliding down to Jongin’s thigh to pull until Jongin lifts and repositions it, fully straddling him now.

“I like weird,” he hears Jongin mumble against his mouth.

Somehow, they had started moving against each other. Just enough rocking and pulling to grind friction against Kyungsoo’s cock, and he bites impulsively, feeling a rush through his body as he hears a whimper vibrate against his lips. Finally, the right sound. He gathers Jongin closer, sighing into his mouth as Jongin makes that sweet little sound again.

“I—ah…” Jongin whines, adjusting his lower body some more so that they line up even better, friction intensifying.

“You what,” Kyungsoo asks eagerly, his breath growing more labored as he pulls Jongin’s hips repeatedly toward his, pivoting enough that he can feel the bulge of Jongin’s pants rub along his shaft with each tug.

“—gonna—” Jongin gasps out, his face flushed pink as he clings to Kyungsoo’s shoulders.

Kyungsoo was just about to ask again when Jongin sucks in a breath and holds it, hips rolling against Kyungsoo’s, warmth spreading between them. He lets out a deep moan, and Kyungsoo is coming, unabashedly matching Jongin’s needy sound as his whole body goes numb and tingly.

A bead of sweat drips from Jongin’s chin, over his sharp jaw, down his neck, and into the collar of his tee, darkening the fabric. Kyungsoo stares at it breathlessly, feeling suddenly lost.

“I don’t know if this is the right time for it,” Jongin says hesitantly, after their breathing evens out, “but, uh, I was upset because my friends told me I got drunk and tried to make out with my crush.”

“Your crush?” Kyungsoo echoes, confusion and an odd pang stirring in his chest. Did Jongin kiss somebody else that night? How come nobody told him this part?

Jongin leans forward, giving him a chaste kiss on the lips, “And then you finally started talking to me, but I thought you were… insulted that I tried.”

Oh. Him. OH. Oh, _he’s_ the crush.

 _He_ was Jongin’s crush. Is. Crush. His.

“Why would I be insulted?” Kyungsoo asks. “Have you _seen_ you?”

He was being sincere, but Jongin goes even redder than… than when he came earlier, his blush reaching the tip of his nose. That’s too adorably shy for someone who just made Kyungsoo jizz in his pants from some casual dry-humping.

Speaking of…

Jongin seems to realize it at the same time as well, clearing his throat and awkwardly climbing out of Kyungsoo’s lap, laughing as he swats Kyungsoo’s hands away from his ass. That leaves Kyungsoo sitting on the edge of Jongin’s unmade bed, sticky all over.

“I still need to shower…” Jongin says.

Kyungsoo bites his own lip, feeling a delightfully raw sting. “This is the part where I’d ask if you wanted company…”

Jongin’s lips part as his eyes turn contemplative. And then his eyes sharpen, and a wicked smirk crooks his mouth to the right. He raises a brow, before picking up his towel and slinging it across his shoulders, and grabbing another from his closet to toss at Kyungsoo. “Only if you mean it,” he offers.

Kyungsoo had never been more excited for a shower. 

**Author's Note:**

> What does this have to do with graduation? Excellent question. It's a lot of nonsense. I want to write a proper ending/smut for it, but writing at all is a struggle. Thank you to my beta, the best beta in the whole world. You tried, you did, you insanely supportive cheerleader. I'm so grateful for you. I love you. <3


End file.
